Schrodinger's Cat
by ArwenLalaith
Summary: Time is running out. So is air. Each second passing is a second of his life gone. In 12 hours, they can no longer save him. Co-written with Confetti Leaves.
1. Chapter 1

_"Many who plan to seek the Lord at the eleventh hour die at 10:30"  
- Christian Proverb_

*****

"_Are you praying now? Well, you should be. You should be begging for forgiveness. But God doesn't forgive those who forsake him... Looks like you're out of luck. So go ahead, scream, shout, yell for help. No one will ever hear you. No one's going to save you. So breathe fast, breathe slow, put your gun to your head and pull the trigger... Any which way you like, you're going to die here."_

He opened his eyes at the sound of the voice, attempted to sit up, knocked his head sharply against some sort of lid, and was instantly sure that he must still be unconscious. He shut his eyes tightly again, taking several deep breaths before realizing that, if his senses weren't deceived, he would be wise to conserve his air supply.

He slowly opened his eyes again, only to find the same surroundings. The same horrible, heart-stopping surroundings. There was no one there, no one speaking to him. For a second, he thought he was hallucinating before he realized that the voice was recorded.

He started pounding frantically on the lid of the Plexiglas box, yelling for help in the faint hope that someone above ground would hear.

Seconds later, the moment of immediate panic passed and he forcibly calmed himself; he was only wasting energy and oxygen. He forced himself to think critically, to look for a viable way to escape.

He knew there wouldn't be any.

He had seen the other coffins; this guy was good. Too good to make a mistake like that.

He absently remembered something Reid had said before, something about some guy's cat in a box... It can be assumed to be both alive and dead at the same time...

Did the team think he was dead? Did they even know he was missing? Would they find him in time? Or was he already in his final resting place?

******

There was nothing but a disbelieving silence laying heavy in the room as if all the air had been sucked forcibly from their lungs. Could what they were seeing really be real?

The team watched the live feed from the coffin. There was nothing they could do, no way to help him as he struggled for freedom. He pounded on the lid, yelling, trying to escape. Panicking...

The first sound upon it sinking in was choked back sobbing, both Emily and JJ were struggling to hold back their tears. Hotch and Rossi both seemed angry, letting out huffed breaths. Reid seemed scared.

They were all too shocked to even think, all except for Reid who coped with his worry by reverting to what he did best, analyzing. "There's no way that box has twelve hours worth of air. If the unsub plans on keeping him alive long enough to get his money, there's got to be another air source."

"None of the other victims did..."

"I guess... That means Morgan's special..."


	2. Chapter 2

_"To be buried while alive is, beyond question, the most terrific of these extremes which has ever fallen to the lot of mere mortality."  
- Edgar Allen Poe_

*****

JJ began, looking around the conference table at her teammates. "Norman Harris, 57, was found nine days ago by some construction workers when they dug into the ground to prepare for road upgrading. He had been dead for almost two weeks when they found him. Susan Benson, 21, was found five days ago. She was dead for two days when she was found. Olivia Jackson, 39, was found yesterday. She was dead for almost a week. Adam Walters, 60, was found today. He was dead for only a day," she explained, showing the picture power-point that she had prepared. "All the victims had no signs of sexual assault or torture. They were all buried alive."

"This is escalating," Morgan said matter-of-factly, "It used to be one victim a week, now the unsub has killed consecutively for two days."

"How were all the other victims found?" Hotch asked.

"They were either found by construction workers or while digging a grave in preparation for a funeral," JJ replied, "Olivia Jackson, however, was found after the thunderstorm yesterday. The rain had washed off the soil, revealing a part of her coffin. She was buried near a hillside."

Emily looked up from her file, frowning, "There's no overlap. The victims had different social circles, different age groups, jobs, and races. This unsub doesn't have a type."

"They were all buried alive, which means there could be more victims out there we don't know about," Morgan said.

"I'm already on the missing persons list," Garcia replied.

"Reid, what can you tell us about live burial?" Rossi looked up from his file.

"Humans may be buried alive intentionally as a form of torture, murder, or execution or without ill intent such as voluntarily as a stunt, with the intention to escape. They could also be accidentally buried alive, for example, under rubble due to a disaster or collapse of a building or unintentionally, believing that a living person is already dead. Live burial is said to be one of the most widespread of human fears," Reid answered confidently, "George Washington, on his deathbed, made his servants promise to not bury him until two days after his death."

Emily watched Reid with an amused look on her face, then turned to Morgan and said, "He's like a human encyclopedia, isn't he?"

"Alright, JJ and Reid, contact the victims' families and ask them to come in. We need to know everything about the victims," Hotch delegated, "Morgan, Prentiss, go down to Adam Walters' burial site and see of you can find anything. Rossi and I will go down to the morgue. Garcia -"

"Find everything I can on the victims to see if there's a connection and continue working on the missing persons list," she cut Hotch off, "Got it, boss."

Hotch raised his brow and Rossi shrugged, "You're kind of predictable..."

******

"Mr. and Mrs. Benson, thank you for coming in," JJ began, "We know this is really hard for you, but need to know everything about your daughter."

"Why? Why would someone do such an awful thing?" Mrs. Benson sobbed, "My Susan was a good girl. She was a straight A student, she'd be graduating soon. She was going to be a lawyer."

JJ handed her some tissues and said, "I'm sorry. We'll do everything we can to find whoever did this to her. Was Susan in any bad company?"

"No," Mr. Benson shook his head, "She was rebellious when she was a teenager but nothing drastic. Like her mother said, she was a good girl. She never drank or smoked, she volunteered to tutor the kids at the community centre on weekends. She never had enemies. At least, not that I know of..."

"Okay," JJ nodded, "What about her friends? Do you know any of her friends?"

Mrs. Benson sighed, "She had a lot of friends. We met some of her close friends... Her BFFs? That was what she called them. But they all seemed nice." She paused, as if to wait for a reply, but she continued quickly, "You think they did this to her?"

"No," JJ gently insisted, "We don't suspect anyone yet. But we'd like to talk to her friends, see if they noticed anything out of the norm or any suspicious people around Susan the day she was kidnapped."

"Lily," Mr. Benson said abruptly, "Lily O'Hara. She's Susan's roommate and best friend. She should know Susan's other friends."

"Okay," JJ nodded, "Thank you."

******

Reid sat in the conference room, staring intently at the photos and information on the glass board in front of him. "It doesn't make sense..." he whispered to himself. He turned around when he heard someone entering the room. "How did the interview go?"

"It was the same as the previous interviews," JJ replied, handing Reid a mug of coffee. "Susan Benson was a straight A student, volunteered on weekends, didn't have any major bad habits."

"It doesn't make sense," Reid repeated.

"What is this unsub trying to prove?"


	3. Chapter 3

_"I will deal with them according to their conduct, and by their own standards I will judge them."  
- Bible_

*****

_People don't understand what they take for granted until they need it the most. That's when they find out that it's already too late. They finally learn how to pray when no one's there to hear them._

He sat in his car in the parking lot, wordlessly drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. He watched as they exited the building and crossed to a waiting SUV. He crossed himself and touched his fingers to the rosary hanging from the rear-view mirror, reassuring himself. _Doing God's work, counting their sins, waiting until the time is right._

Then, as they pulled out of the parking lot, he followed shortly after. Close enough to watch, but not so close as to draw attention to himself. If they knew, everything would be ruined.

Every detail mattered. Every single one. It was only a matter of time.

******

"This is a pretty shallow grave," Morgan commented as they examined the grave, "It's only about two feet deep, three tops."

"Deep enough to not rouse any suspicion, but shallow enough to be found later," Emily said. Then, a look of realization crossed on her face. "The unsub _wants_ them to be found. All the victims were found because someone had to dig into the ground for construction work or a funeral. Why would you bury someone in an unused funeral plot if you didn't want them to be found?"

"He's trying to make a statement."

"Of what?"

Morgan scoffed, "That he's one sick son of a bitch..."

******

"There is really nothing out of the ordinary with these victims, they're exactly what you'd expect to see from hypoxic hypoxia cases. Low partial oxygen pressure in the arterial blood, cyanosis. They probably suffered from seizures before slipping into a coma and eventually dying," the coroner described.

"They don't have any defensive wounds," Hotch commented, "The unsub either blitzed them or coerced them. Do they have any taser marks?"

"No."

"What about evidence of chloroform or ether?"

"We're still waiting on the blood gas analysis on the two most recently discovered victims, but we've turned up nothing in the first two. But it's possible it could have been fully metabolized by the time they died."

As they left the morgue, Hotch could tell that there was something weighing on Rossi's mind. "What is it?" he asked.

Rossi frowned, "Is it just me or do these deaths seem a little too perfect..."

******

Climbing back into the passenger seat of the SUV, Emily waited for Morgan to start the car, but several minutes passed and he made no move to turn the key in the ignition. "What's wrong?" she asked finally.

"I'm not sure..." he said slowly, "Something just feels...wrong. Like something bad is going to happen."

She rolled her eyes, "Isn't that the general feeling when we work a case?"

"It's different this time; like something is going to happen to one of us..."

Clearly, she didn't set much stake in gut feelings. "Don't you think you're being a little overdramatic?"

He turned to look her in the eye, "I'm serious."

"Okay," she sighed, "I believe you."

He still looked a little skeptical that she wasn't just humoring him. "Really?"

"I trust you."

"That's not an answer..."

"Would it make you feel better if I promise I'll be extra careful while we're on this case?"

"Yes," he said definitively.

"Well, then I promise," she said smiling.

"Good. Because I'm not sure what I'd do without you..."

"That's never going to happen, I'll always be with you," she replied softly.

"Cheesy much?"

Now it was her turn to be adamant, "I'm serious; no matter what, I will always be there for you to lean on."

He smiled, reaching out to take her hand. "I know."

"Now, how about I really cheer you up..."

His tender smile changed to a mischievous smirk, "I think I like the sound of that." She leaned across the front seat to kiss him, unable to resist making it a little more heated than perhaps altogether necessitated by the situation.


	4. Chapter 4

_"For a solitary animal, egoism is a virtue that tends to preserve and improve the species; in any kind of community it becomes a destructive vice."  
- Erwin Schrödinger_

*****

It was a little after six when Hotch and Rossi rejoined Reid and JJ in the conference room; Emily and Morgan returned with Chinese food soon after. They put their files and pens down as soon as the smell of dinner began wafting across the room. The team knew that if it were possible for them to gain energy simply by breathing, they would use the time taken to eat to work on the case. And for some reason, Garcia thanked God that they needed to eat. Maybe she thought they needed to reward themselves for working so hard in the day. Or maybe they just needed at least half an hour to remember that not everything in the world was horrible and bad. At least, the food was good.

She looked around the room and smiled. Behind that tough, fearless FBI agent armour, her team – her family – were just normal people. Normal people who had seen horrible things that the world never believed existed. And she liked to think that they were like pieces of a puzzle. They fit together perfectly and, were anyone out of the picture, the picture would not be perfect.

Her smile widened; yeah, her family was perfect.

Garcia snapped out of her reverie when she heard Hotch ask, "So, what have we got?"

"Not a lot," Morgan shrugged, then continued, "All we know is that the unsub wants the bodies to be found."

"The graves were shallow and the unsub buried the victims in unused funeral plot," Emily explained, which Reid quickly scribbled down on the glass board.

"Why would he do that?" JJ asked.

"What do you mean by 'why'?" Hotch questioned.

"I mean, he didn't kill them right away, instead he buries them in a shallow grave," JJ answered, "If they're lucky, someone might find them before they die. So, essentially, no one knows if the victim is dead or alive until someone finds them."

"It's like the Schrödinger's cat experiment," Reid pointed out.

"Whose cat?" Rossi asked, obviously confused.

"Schrödinger's cat is a paradoxical thought experiment, devised by Austrian physicist Erwin Schrödinger in 1935. It illustrates the problem he saw with the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics when applied to everyday objects." The team looked at him with confusion as he attempted to explain the experiment. "In Schrödinger's experiment, a cat and a flask of poison are placed in a sealed box. If the internal Geiger counter detects radiation, the flask is shattered and it releases the poison that kills the cat. But the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics implies that after awhile the cat can be assumed to be both dead and alive at the same time, essentially creating two different universes that split off from one another at the time the cat is placed in the box, only to converge when it is opened again."

"Poor kitty," Garcia commented sincerely, causing the team to laugh.

"I think we've had enough quantum mechanics for one day, Reid," Hotch said.

******

"I've got nothing on the unsub, sir," Garcia said, looking up from her laptop. "All the security cameras only showed that the victims were alone. Then they disappeared. Not one angle shows the unsub."

"He knows the area well," Rossi said, "He knows where the cameras are. Could he be watching the victims before he kidnaps them?"

"It's possible," Reid shrugged, "From the interviews with the victims' families, they were usually alone before they went missing. Adam Walters was kidnapped in a shopping mall parking lot, Olivia Jackson went missing after she dropped her kids off at school, Norman Harris' colleagues said he left to get coffee but never returned, and Susan Benson was on her way home from the library with her friend. Her friend left her alone for a minute to use the ladies' room and when she returned, Susan was gone."

"If he has been watching them, then he does have a type," Emily pointed out, "They aren't just some random people he encounters on the street."

"What's the link between these victims?" Morgan asked and Hotch stared intently at the glass board full of information and photos of the victims, yet lacking the one thing they needed to piece it all together.

It was well after midnight and they had been working on the case for hours and were all exhausted, despite not having managed to figure out the unsub's motive or the link between all the victims.

"Go home," Hotch told the team, "Have a good rest and we'll start fresh tomorrow."

******

He watched the team leave the building. They were hard working people, he had to give them that, but it didn't revoke their sins. They each climbed into their cars and drove away after bidding each other goodbye, all except the brunette and the dark skinned man, who remained behind. As soon as the others were gone, they let their hands intertwine.

He felt something stir in him when he watched the brunette kiss the man and whisper "I love you" to him. He began to ask himself, what was wrong with him? Why didn't anyone look at him that way? Why hadn't anyone told me that they loved him?

"Stay focused," he told himself. Looking into the rear-view mirror, he reminded himself of his mission. A mission far too important to be lost for the sake of jealously. _God's work._


	5. Chapter 5

_Destruction cometh; and they shall seek peace, and there shall be none.  
- Bible_

*****

"We're appealing to the public for help in solving a recent string of murders in the Quantico area," JJ said to the mass of reporters assembled outside the FBI building. "Over the past month, four people have gone missing from the area and later turned up dead," she explained, showing pictures of the victims. "We're asking anyone who witnessed anything or has any information pertaining to these crimes, to please come forward."

He pursed his lips as he listened to her speak, talking about the deaths as if they weren't skillful, as if they weren't artful, as if they didn't have meaning... Some of the other members of the team were standing in the background, no doubt surveying the crowd to see if the person they were looking for had injected himself into the investigation.

He decided to test them. "Is this related to the Grave Digger Killer?"

That had their attention. "These are the victims found in the coffins, but we are _not_ calling the killer the Grave Digger," she stressed.

He frowned; so many other infamous serial killers had been given names, why not him? Weren't the deaths horrific enough? Weren't they as mystifying? Weren't they important enough?

Despite her claims, the media immediately jumped on the name and began adamantly demanding answers to ridiculous questions, no doubt words were about to be twisted.

Sufficiently satisfied with the havoc he had created and certain that there was too much pandemonium for him to be noticed, he decided that it was time and covertly slithered away from the swarm of newshounds. A small smirk appeared on his face as he climbed into his car.

They were going to remember him. The whole world, for generations to come, would always remember him. No longer would he be that guy that everyone picked on. He wouldn't be that guy who's not as good as his siblings.

After this, _everyone_ would know who he was.

******

As usual, after a press conference, the tip-line was immediately flooded with calls. And, as usual, very little, if anything, was of any use.

"Why do we even bother with this?" Morgan groaned, "All we get are the nut-jobs calling in with their crazy nonsense theories..."

"Hang on," JJ said suddenly, waving the team over as she put her phone on speaker, "I think I might have something."

"Spoke too soon," Emily said to Morgan, elbowing him playfully in the ribs.

They quieted as JJ spoke to the caller, "Okay, go ahead."

"I think I may have witnessed one of the people you talked about on the press conference being kidnapped..." came the tinny voice of the caller on the other end of the line.

"Really?" Rossi asked, seeming surprised.

"Norman... What's his name... Howard? Hunt?"

"Harris," Hotch supplied.

"Yeah, that's it. He was in the parking garage of his office and some guy came up behind him... I looked away for a second and when I looked back they were both gone..."

"Do you think you would be able to describe the kidnapper to a sketch artist, maybe answer a few questions about his behaviour?" Reid asked.

"I don't know... Maybe. I could try if it might help catch whoever's doing this."

"Okay, what's your address? We're going to send one of our agents to speak with you," Hotch said. JJ scrawled the address down as Hotch turned to the team, "Morgan, Reid, you go speak with the witness."

******

They pulled up outside the house of the witness and were about to get out of the car when they were interrupted by Morgan's phone ringing.

Pulling it out of his pocket, he checked the caller ID, informing Reid, "It's Garcia."

Reid held out his hand, "I'll talk to her, you go start talking to the witness."

"No way," Morgan argued, "It's my phone."

"Oh, grow up," Reid laughed.

"Fine, rock-paper-scissors," Morgan negotiated, "Loser talks to the witness, winner talks to Garcia and then helps talk to the witness."

Reid rolled his eyes; he had told Morgan time and time again that he _always _won at rock-paper-scissors, but he never believed him. Oh well, his loss. "One, two, three, shoot," he counted off, playing paper.

Morgan frowned as paper covered rock. "Best two out of three," he bargained.

"Nope," Reid said simply as he snatched the phone from his hand. "Hey, Garcia..."

Morgan shot him a glare, before heading to the door to knock. It swung open at his touch and he immediately became suspicious. "Mr. Reimer?" he called, reaching for his gun as he took a cautious step inside. "Mr. Reimer? FBI," he repeated.

He had taken several steps further down the front hall when he heard the front door slam shut. He whirled around to see what had happened, but before he could, a pair of hands forcefully clamped a cloth over his mouth and nose.

He struggled with all his might for as long he could, but it was only a matter of seconds before the room started to swim before his eyes and a few more before he was completely unconscious.


	6. Chapter 6

"_The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.  
__The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference.  
__The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference.  
__And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference."  
__- Elie Wiesel_

*****

"Alright. Thanks Garcia," Reid hung up the phone and headed to knock on the witness' door. There was no response and he knocked again, louder. "Mr. Remier? Morgan?" Still there was no response. In fact, it was so quiet that an indescribable feeling of dread began creeping over Reid. He felt his heart race. "I'm coming in!"

He kicked the door open and found nobody in the room. He carefully made his way into the house, surveying every corner of the room. Everything was in its place. No signs of a struggle or a fight. Quickly, he made his way to the kitchen and found the back door open. Going out into the backyard, he found drag marks and Morgan's badge lying in the dirt.

_Oh crap._

******

Standing before the white-board, considering, Emily suddenly dropped her marker when she was overcame by a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. Pressing her hand to her chest, she sat on the edge of the table, taking deep, gasping breaths.

"Emily, is everything okay?" Garcia asked, rushing to her side.

"I don't know..." she replied slowly, "I just have this really, really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. Could you call Morgan? See if he – they're okay?"

"Of course," she nodded.

"Emily, do you need to take a minute?" Hotch asked. Emily's face was as white as a sheet.

Before she could reply, the phone rang and Emily felt an inexplicable chill run the length of her spine. "Reid, it's JJ. You're on speaker," she said calmly, "Is everything alright?"

"Morgan..." Reid began, sounding close to tears, "He's been kidnapped..."

The room froze. "What?" Rossi managed after a few tense moments.

******

"What happened?" Hotch asked Reid. Reid didn't say anything for a while. He could only stare at his hands. "Reid, look at me," Hotch insisted, "You need to tell us what happened. You know we need all the details so we can understand why he picked Morgan."

He took a deep breath before he answered. "We were standing outside when Morgan's phone rang. When I hung up, Morgan was gone. I only found his badge..." Handing him Morgan's badge, he dropped his head and stared at his hands, whispering, "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," JJ reassured, squeezed his hands, "No one expected it to happen."

"If I came in with him, none of this would have happened."

Rossi and Emily joined them before Hotch or JJ could say anything more. "What did you find?" Hotch asked.

"Nothing much," Rossi replied; were they not profilers, they wouldn't have detected the anger bubbling underneath the surface. "But we think this so-called witness is our unsub."

"We only found one set of footprints and a set of drag marks," Emily explained, "And those footprints definitely do not belong to Morgan. They were at least two sizes smaller."

"So, our unsub is like a size nine?" JJ asked.

"Or smaller."

"I'll call Garcia to check up on this Jake Remier..." Hotch said, but they all knew it would probably come up empty. But, they had nothing to lose.

Everything was quickly becoming too much for Emily to handle. Abruptly, she said, "I'm sorry, I need a minute." She leaned against the cold brick wall of the building and closed her eyes, willing herself to not cry. This was neither the time nor the place for her to break down and feel helpless. But that was easier said than done. She quickly brushed away the lone tear that escaped her eye. Morgan didn't like it when she cried; he told her, pretty girls aren't supposed to be crying. And suddenly, she missed him more than ever. She wanted him to be there, holding her, and telling her everything would be okay.

Emily wasn't surprised when JJ came over and check on her. "I'm fine, JJ," she said softly, but it sounded nothing like fine.

"No, you're not," JJ insisted, "What's wrong?"

"Morgan... Yesterday, he told me he had a very bad feeling about the case," Emily sighed sadly, "He even told me to be extra careful. I should have known..."

"Emily," she said softly, "There was no way you could have known... You can't do this. Morgan needs us to get it together and find him."

She took a deep breath, pulling herself together; JJ was right. Morgan needed her... More than ever. She had to stay strong for him. "I'm sorry. Let's find this unsub," Emily said determinedly, "Morgan needs us."


	7. Chapter 7

_"An eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind."  
__- Mohandas Gandhi_

*****

There was much pacing and aggravated grumbling in the conference room. "What do you mean there's no records for Jake Reimer?" Hotch asked.

"There's no one registered as living in the Quantico area named Jake Reimer," Garcia repeated.

"Could he just be visiting?" JJ suggested.

"Not according to credit card action," Garcia said sullenly.

"Of course not," Rossi huffed, "Of course he gave us a fake name."

"Who's the house registered to?" Reid asked.

"Andrea Rohas," Garcia replied after a moment, "Who happens to be in the hospital at the moment."

"So, the unsub likely just picked the address at random, knowing that no one would be home to interfere," Reid said, "Maybe he works in the health care system?"

"That's too wide a spec," Garcia said, "I need more."

It hadn't gone unnoticed that Emily had been silent for the entire discussion. "Are you sure you're okay, Prentiss?" Hotch asked, "It's alright if you need to take some time..."

"No," she repeated, attempting to sound more convincing than before, "I'm fine." Then, as if to prove her point, she turned to Garcia and asked, "How are we doing on finding connections between the other victims?"

"Still looking," Garcia frowned, "But I'm cross-referencing with Morgan now... Maybe that will turn up something."

Suddenly, she stopped speaking and gave a horrified gasp.

******

Morgan groggily ran his hands over his face. _Damn it. _

He had been so busy worrying about Emily's safety that it hadn't occurred to him that he might end up being the one in danger. He managed to find some solace in the fact that at least she was safe...

His heart started to pound vociferously against his ribs. She was probably worrying herself to death over him. And what if he never got out of here? He'd never have the chance to tell her he loved her...

_Damn it!_

He once again started pounding on the lid of the coffin, attempting to force it open. There _had _to be a weak point...

******

"What is it?" JJ asked, worried.

"Someone just hacked into the FBI website and posted a link..." Garcia said through gritted teeth.

"What does it say?" Reid asked.

She turned the screen so they could all read the bold black letters that said, "RE: Derek Morgan. Let this be a lesson to all the sinners. Five hundred thousand dollars, twelve hours."

"Click on the link," Hotch said.

"But Sir..." Garcia said quietly, "This could just be a trick, it could be a way to hack into the system or a virus or..."

"Follow the link," he repeated, "If this contains any information about Morgan, we need to see it."

Looking over at Emily, JJ saw that her hands were shaking and she looked ghostly pale. Wordlessly, she reached over to grasp her hand, to which Emily gave a small smile.

A smile that instantly vanished as the link expanded to show her worst fear played out before her...

******

After lying the box for an hour or so, maybe longer, the profiler in Morgan began to take over. His mind began working and he started questioning himself.

Why him? Of all the people in the Quantico area, why him? Of the seven people in the BAU, why him?

Not that he wished that the unsub took another member of the team, but there had to be a reason behind the unsub's choice of victim... He wasn't the easiest guy to take down and neither were the other male victims. And it would certainly be a lot easier for the unsub to carry someone small like JJ or Reid into the car. So then, why him?

Then the next question: Why a live burial? All the victims were buried alive. No signs of sexual assault or torture, he simply kidnapped them and buried them alive. What was the significance of a live burial to the unsub?


	8. Chapter 8

"_When it is a question of money, all men are of the same religion."  
__- Voltaire_

*****

Emily rejoined the team after she left them to be alone for the second time since Morgan had been kidnapped. It didn't take much to know that she had spent the last fifteen minutes crying. They were confused as to why she was so affected by Morgan's disappearance; not to say that they weren't affected, but it seemed like his disappearance had hit her harder than anyone else on the team. But they weren't going to brood on that, they had more important things at hand.

"Are you okay?" JJ whispered softly, as Emily sat down beside her.

"I'm fine."

"I've just contacted Morgan's family," JJ informed her, "They should be here in a couple of hours." Emily nodded, but said nothing.

"I don't get it..." Reid said, staring at the laptop.

"What is it?" Hotch asked.

"See, the unsub wrote, 'Let this be a lesson to all the _sinners_'," Reid explained, "It's an interesting choice of words."

"Define 'interesting'," Rossi prompted.

"There are probably a thousand other words that could have been used, yet the unsub choose 'sinners'," Reid said, "I think there might be some sort of significance... A message."

"Alright. Reid, you continue working on that. Rossi, help him out," Hotch said, "JJ, Prentiss, we need to raise five hundred thousand dollars. I've spoken to Strauss... And, though she's sympathetic, she says neither the Bureau nor the city will finance the ransom."

"I think I can get the money," Emily said.

"How?"

"My mother..."

******

Ambassador Elizabeth Prentiss rarely showed any emotions, not even to her family; yet, this time, what Emily wanted from her surprised her greatly. "You need five hundred thousand dollars from me. In less than twelve hours," she shot her daughter an incredulous look.

"Yes," Emily nodded, "I need it to save Morgan's life."

"Agent Morgan? Your colleague?"

"Look, I know it's a lot to ask of you in such a short period of time, but I know you can get the money. I've never asked you for anything, but I'm begging you here. Please... I... I can't let him die," she added softly, close to tears.

And that was enough for Ambassador Prentiss to know that this man was more than just a friend to her daughter. "You love him," she stated simply. "How long have you been together?"

"Almost six months," Emily answered frustratedly. "Can we please address the questions some other day? I don't have a lot of time left. Are you going to help me or not?"

"I need some time," Elizabeth Prentiss replied, "I don't have that much cash at hand. I'll need a couple of hours."

Emily let out a sigh of relief and blinked back tears, "Thank you."

******

_Hang in there, handsome. We'll get you out._

Garcia watched the live feed from Morgan's coffin intently. The pounding and panicking had stopped, but she could tell that he was scared out of his wits.

And she couldn't even begin to imagine what Emily was going through. If Morgan were here, he would have been so proud of Emily for staying strong for him. Granted, she had broken down a few times, but that was understandable... The love of her life was trapped in a box, buried somewhere in the Quantico area... You would have to be cold-blooded to not be affected.

She was the only one who knew about their relationship. They would probably have kept it from her if Morgan hadn't picked up the wrong cell phone one morning.

Chewing her nails, Garcia wondered what had these victims and Morgan done to deserve this type of punishment. Looking at the photos of the victims, their smiles and the sparkle in their eyes, she felt her heart ache for their families. The people that had to learn to pick up the pieces and move on with their lives. She had been there, she knew exactly how they felt. The hurt, the pain, the sorrow, the anger, and all the regrets... They would never go away.

Right now, her only wish was that her family would not have to go though that.

******

He watched from afar, revelling in the frenzy he had caused. A mass of reporters had gathered outside the FBI headquarters after having received a fax saying that an FBI agent had been kidnapped by the 'Grave Digger Killer'.

The 'finest minds of the FBI' already had their hands full, but he couldn't resist throwing them off their game a little more. Besides, if you want the world to know who you are, you need to use all the tricks up your sleeve.

He wasn't surprised when the girlfriend of his latest victim approached her mother for the ransom money. He had been watching them long enough to know that she came from money. Five hundred thousand dollars meant nothing to her family. But money was not what he was after...

He wanted something else....


	9. Chapter 9

_"The real religion of the world comes from women much more than from men – from mothers most of all, who carry the key of our souls in their bosoms."  
__- Oliver Wendell Holmes_

*****

"What's going on? Agent Jareau wasn't very specific on the phone... She said it would be better to hear it directly..." Mrs. Morgan asked frantically as she sprinted across the bullpen towards Emily.

Emily opened her mouth to say something, but stopped before she could, realizing that if she started to break down, she wouldn't be able to stop it... And she didn't want the team to see her cry. "Let's go somewhere quiet to talk," she said, leading Morgan's mother into an empty conference room.

As she sat down, indicating that his mother should follow suit, she was suddenly struck by the realization that this was the second time they had met under such terrible circumstances. Taking a deep breath, she came right out with it, "Derek's been kidnapped..."

"What?"

"He went to interview a witness and the attacker surprised him," she explained softly, "But we're not sure who has him or why..."

"Oh God..." Mrs. Morgan breathed, "Is he okay? Has he been hurt?"

"We aren't sure," Emily said honestly, "But there was nothing at the scene to suggest that he had been."

"So, what do we do now? Are we ever going to see him again?"

"The kidnapper has demanded five hundred thousand dollars..."

"Five hundred thousand dollars?" she repeated incredulously, "We don't have that kind of money! We can sell the cars, put up the house," Mrs. Morgan said as if she were speaking to herself, "But that will take time... Can we use what we already have in the bank to buy more time?"

"Don't worry about it," Emily said.

"What?"

"I've taken care of the ransom."

"Oh, dear," Mrs. Morgan whispered, close to tears, "You didn't have to do that."

Emily felt herself start to well up too. "I had to. We have to get him back." She broke eye contact as tears started to trickle down her cheeks and, more to herself, whispered, "I have to tell him I love him..."

Mrs. Morgan pulled her into a hug and the two women cried together.

When their tears began to abate, Mrs. Morgan asked, "How do you know he's still alive? How do you know that once you give the kidnapper the money he'll hold up his end of the bargain?"

Emily shut her eyes, "There's something you need to see..."

******

A heavy silence fell over the room as Emily lead Morgan's mother into the room where they were keeping the feed monitored.

"Mrs. Morgan, we're all very sorry..." JJ consoled. The best she could manage in response was a weak smile.

"Are you sure you want to see this?" Garcia asked, her heart wrenching for the poor mother who had to watch her son slowly suffocating.

"If it's proof that he's still alive, I need to see it," Mrs. Morgan replied with complete conviction.

Emily reached out to take her hand and gave a slight nod to Garcia who turned a screen so that they could see the feed. Mrs. Morgan let out a gasp and clapped her hand over her mouth, tears instantly welling up in her eyes again. But she stood rooted to the spot for several minutes, unable to tear her gaze away from her son; this could quite easily be the last time she ever got to see him alive.

"Oh, honey," she whispered, "Why is it always you?"

After another moment or two, she became too overwhelmed and hurried from the room.

******

The car ride to Morgan's apartment seemed longer than usual and the mood in the car was deeply sullen. Emily had offered to let his mother stay at her apartment, knowing that if it were her, the last place she would want to be was anywhere that reminded her so much of him... But she had declined, saying that she didn't want to impose on Emily because she had already done so much.

"They don't know about you and Derek, do they?" Mrs. Morgan eventually broke the silence.

"No," Emily said quietly, purposefully keeping her eyes trained intently on the road.

"Are you sure you're okay? It can't be easy working the case, knowing..."

Emily cut her off, "I'm fine." Her claim was undercut slightly by the way her voice wavered as she fought to hold back her tears. "I have to be... Derek needs me to be strong. What if the reason we don't get to him in time is because my head's not in the game? The whole team needs to work together to figure this out and I can't be the one that lets it break down. That's why co-workers aren't supposed to have relationships. And... I just... I can't lose him... I can't..."

Then, she had to pull over to the side of the road because she was crying too hard to see straight. As she used the heel of her hand to wipe away her tears, she apologized, "I'm sorry... I really shouldn't be unloading all of this on you; I'm sure you have enough to deal with without me breaking down. It's just... No one else knows, I can't let them see me lose it. I can't talk to anyone else..."

Mrs. Morgan reached over to take her hand. "You're human, no one expects you to not be affected. It's okay to break down..." Emily sniffled and wiped away her tears as her sobs started to fade and her breathing slowed to quiet hiccups.

Once Emily was calm enough to drive again, Mrs. Morgan asked, "There's a little church just up ahead... Would you mind if we stopped in to pray for Derek? It might help you feel better..."

"Of course, just let me tell the team where I am."


	10. Chapter 10

"_Anyone can give up, it's the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that's true strength."  
__- Unknown_

*****

Back at the Bureau, Reid was still pondering over the significance of the word 'sinners'. It frustrated him to no end that, after all those hours of thinking, he was still exactly where he started. He still had nothing but a question. Huffing quietly, he reached for his coffee mug only to find that Rossi had taken it away from him.

"You've had ten cups of coffee in less than two hours," Rossi said, "I know we practically live on caffeine, but keep drinking like that and you'll be in trouble."

"But I _need_ coffee," Reid replied.

"No. What you need is to stop blaming yourself for Morgan's kidnapping."

Reid looked down at his hands. "But it _was_ my fault. If I hadn't insisted that he interview the witness first, it wouldn't have happened."

"Reid, we already know the unsub has a type," Rossi stated, "He was gunning for Morgan. There was nothing you could do then to keep him safe." Reid didn't say anything, so Rossi continued, "Why don't you go take a breather? Some fresh air may do you good."

Reid nodded and, as he slowly made his way out of the room, he ran into Hotch who was just hanging up the phone. "That was Prentiss," he informed, "She won't be back for awhile yet, Mrs. Morgan wanted to stop by a church to pray for Morgan."

Reid froze mid-step. "Where did you say Emily was stopping?"

"A church," Hotch repeated, "Why?"

Reid said nothing, a look of realization crossing his face. "Why didn't I think of that?" He sprinted back into the conference room, looking determined. "Garcia, can you find out the religious denomination of the other victims? The churches they frequented?"

"I can get you anything you need," she replied, not sure what was going on, but sure that it must be important.

"Reid, what's going on?" Hotch repeated.

"Burial is rife with religious significance," he began explaining, "Funerary rights, prayers, etcetera... In 286, common era, Saint Castulus was buried alive as punishment for sheltering Christians... 'Let this be a lesson to all the _sinners_'..."

"Reid," Hotch interrupted, "We don't have time!"

"Right," he reined himself in, "We all know that Morgan's struggled with his faith... What if the unsub is on a mission to eliminate those who he feels have committed cardinal sins by straying from their faith in God..."

"If that's true, then we're in serious trouble," Rossi said darkly, "Mission-based killers are almost impossible to stop..."

"Speaking of serious trouble," JJ said sprinting into the room, "Our twelve hours are almost up..."

******

"I've got the money," Ambassador Prentiss said, slightly out of breath, as she set a briefcase down on Emily's desk, "I'm sorry I'm cutting it so close to the deadline."

"Don't be," Emily said wearily, "The only thing that matters is that you got the money and that we're going to get Morgan back." It was clear from her voice, the tired way she spoke, that she was being pushed to the limits by this case.

Not that her mother could blame her. She had to be going through hell. Then, she did something that she had never really remembered to do while her daughter was younger, she pulled her into a hug and quietly comforted her, "This isn't your fault, you're doing everything you can. You're going to get him back."

Emily felt herself start to well up at the sentiment from such a foreign source. "Thanks Mom," she whispered, turning away to quickly dry her tears before anyone could see.

Just then, JJ came dashing over. "I hope you have the money, because our time just ran out..." And, as if to punctuate the statement, just then, the phone rang.

******

They were all barely breathing as they leaned close to the phone, listening to the unsub speak, through what was obviously a voice distorter. Garcia's fingers were a blur as the tapped across her keyboard, working at lightning speed to attempt to trace the call.

"You hand over the money, then, twenty minutes later, you will receive a phone call that will tell you the GPS coordinates of where Agent Derek Morgan is buried."

"How do we know that once you have the money, you'll hold up your end of the bargain?" Hotch asked, attempting to keep him on the line for as long as possible to give them the best possible chance of tracking his location.

"Because I'm not a liar," he hissed dangerously, "Make the drop in one hour at Quantico National Cemetery. Leave the money by the Purple Heart Memorial, then walk away."

"We'll..." Hotch started to say, but was quickly cut off.

"No," he said with barely contained anger, "Not 'we'. Just her. His girlfriend makes the drop. No one else. She comes alone; I see anyone else and you'll never see Agent Morgan alive again." He paused to let the implications of his statement sink in, then continued, "Be there in one hour or don't bother showing up."

Then, he hung up.

Everyone turned to look at each other, confused. Emily's eyes were wide with disbelief; they had been so careful to keep it a secret and they had just been outed by the unsub... Just when she began thinking things couldn't possibly get worse, they did.


	11. Chapter 11

_"The truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it."  
- Flannery O'Connor_

*****

The team looked at each other in confusion, while Garcia simply stared at Emily who looked like a deer in the headlights. The blond tech pitied the brunette agent immensely. She had more than she could handle on her plate already and the last thing she needed was to have the team question her about their secret relationship. Not to mention that this new found knowledge could leave the rest of the team feeling betrayed and untrusted.

"Garcia, find Morgan's girlfriend," Hotch instructed.

"I... I..." Garcia looked at Emily, "I know his girlfriend."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Rossi demanded, "Call her."

"It's me," Emily confessed quietly.

"What?"

"You're with Morgan? For how long?" Reid asked, slightly shocked by her confession. He knew that Emily and Morgan had always been close, but he never realized that they were _that_ close. He felt betrayed. The people he saw as his brother and sister didn't trust him enough to let him know that they were together. He would have been happy for them. He would have kept the secret for them.

"Six months... As of next week."

"Why didn't you tell us?" JJ asked softly, gently squeezing Emily's hand to let her know that she wasn't mad.

"What were we supposed to say, JJ?" Emily said softly; she always thought that when the team found out about them, Morgan would be there to explain their decision with her. And she certainly never thought that it would be in a situation like this. "Agents aren't supposed to be in a relationship. At least, not with each other..."

"How did it happen?" Reid asked. While he understood their reasons for keeping their relationship a secret, he was still a little mad that they never told him anything.

"Reid, we can leave the questions for another day," Hotch stepped in, before Emily could reply. "Prentiss, go get ready. We'll have to leave soon, if we want to get to the cemetery on time."

"No. I have to do this alone," Emily said determinedly and continued before anyone else could say anything, "You heard him. If he sees anyone else, Derek dies. This is going to sound cliché, but if Derek dies, I don't want to live either..."

******

While Hotch and JJ were watching Emily from an unmarked car parked a ways away at the side of the road, hoping it would be near enough for them to get to her should anything happen, the rest of were back at the Bureau watching the security camera feed as Emily walked towards the Purple Heart Memorial, looking about anxiously as if she expected to be attacked at any moment.

As Emily set the briefcase containing five hundred thousand dollars down, Reid mumbled, "It doesn't seem right."

"What?" Rossi asked.

"It doesn't seem right."

"What do you mean?" Garcia prompted.

"We said the killer is likely a mission-based killer. If we're right, then the money means nothing to him," Reid explained, "This could be a trap."

"What if he isn't a mission-based killer? Maybe he just wants the money?" the blond tech asked hopefully.

"If he just wants money, there are plenty of filthy rich people living in the D.C. area. He could get much more out of them. Why Morgan?" Rossi questioned as Reid moved over to the map. "We know all our victims had problems with their faith, just like Morgan... What is it about that that gets this creep going? What does he want?"

"I don't know..."

******

The agents split their attention between the watching the seconds on the clock tick by and waiting for the phone to ring. Twenty minutes seemed like an eternity. Each sudden sound had them jumping, hoping that it was the phone. Emily was especially beside herself with anxiety, pacing back and forth agitatedly, nails digging furrows into the palms of her hands, and nothing anyone said could calm her down.

They all practically jumped out of their seats towards the phone as it finally rang. And again, Garcia set her magic fingers to work, trying her best to trace the unsub's location.

"Well done, agents," the unsub said through a voice distorter, "You got five hundred thousand dollars in twelve hours. I knew you could do it."

"You got the money, now give us the GPS coordinates of where Derek is," Emily demanded furiously.

"Miss your boyfriend, Agent Prentiss?"

He was taunting her and she knew it. Emily bit her lip and repeated herself, but this time in a forcibly calmer manner. "Give us the GPS coordinates."

Reid scrawled down the series of numbers at lightning speed as they were given. Before the unsub hang up, with an audible lilt to his voice, said, "Better hurry up. Air is running out and Agent Morgan still has his gun with him..."


	12. Chapter 12

_"All men have a sweetness in their life. That is what helps them go on. It is towards that they turn when they feel too worn out."  
__- Albert Camus_

*****

His fingers twitched against the barrel of his gun. The bullets he knew to be in the chamber were beginning to call his name.

He didn't know how long he had been locked in the God-forsaken box, it didn't really matter... Time may as well have been standing still. Far too long he had been trapped, no way out, no one answering his pleas for help. He was slowly dying and he knew it.

No one was going to come in time.

The unsub had been right, he was going to die here and there was nothing he or anyone else could do about it. There was no way to stop it.

The unsub's words rang through his mind, _'breathe fast, breathe slow, put your gun to your head and pull the trigger...' _Those words permeated his conscience until they drove out any productive thoughts. _'Put your gun to your head...' _He began to think of nothing else. _'Pull the trigger...'_ He wouldn't have to suffer any longer... The end of this hell was within his grasp, he was in control, he could end it all...

His hands trembled as he clicked the safety off and slowly brought the gun up to his head. He just couldn't take it any more.

******

Garcia's finger clicked across the keyboard, tracing the coordinates. "It's an old church yard on the edge of town," she said breathlessly, hardly daring to believe that this horrible ordeal could really finally be over. "A little cemetery, but it looks like it's been abandoned for years."

"Let's go! JJ, call an ambulance, have them meet us there," Hotch commanded, "We don't have a lot of time."

Emily shut her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. "Just hang in there, baby," she whispered, praying that he could hang on until they got there, "We're coming."

******

He took several deep, calming breaths to clear his mind. He adjusted his grip on the gun, his finger tightening almost imperceptibly over the trigger.

He had to do this... At least this way he had some small control of his death, at least the unsub's victory wouldn't be so great. If he was going to die here, it may as well be on his own terms.

He took another breath and closed his eyes, ready to pull the trigger. But a small twinge at the pit of his stomach made him stop. Something like guilt...

He couldn't do it. He couldn't leave Emily alone.

Knowing her, she was moving heaven and earth to get him back... And here he was, ready to take the easy way out.

He couldn't do that to her. If the situation were reversed, he knew that he wouldn't want to go on without her and that he would want to know that they'd had every chance to save her. He couldn't take that away, he couldn't just give up, because he knew that they never would.

Something told him that they were close, that help was on its way. He couldn't lose hope now.

He set the gun down, his hands still shaking. "I'm hanging on for you, baby. I won't give up because you won't."

******

Garcia breathed a wary sigh as she watched Morgan set the gun back down, the first breath she had taken since he first picked up his gun what felt like an eternity ago.

Those last few minutes were the worst moments she could remember ever having to sit through. She had thought she was about to witness the horrible last moments of her best friend's life...

She didn't even realize that she had started to cry until a tear dropped onto her keyboard. She quickly dried the tears from her face, thankful that the others were already gone, thankful that they hadn't had to witness that.

She had watched as the hope, the will to keep fighting, to keep living faded from his eyes. She had watched him give up.

And, as excruciatingly painful as it was watching him trapped in that horrible little box, watching him abandon hope was even worse. It was almost as if he didn't believe that they were coming, as if he didn't believe they would save him.

As she had watched his finger tighten over the trigger, she didn't know whether to pray or yell or just break down.

"_No, no, no," she breathed, feeling herself start to well up, "Don't you dare pull that trigger! You can't give up while we're still fighting to save you! Think about everyone you'd be leaving behind... The team needs you. Your mom needs you. Emily needs you. You can't just leave us all behind! You can't give up!"_

She had known that he couldn't hear, that her words wouldn't make the slightest difference, but she was just so helpless, resigned to sitting there and watching... Knowing that there was nothing she could do as his last moments were played out before her.

But he had stopped himself, he wouldn't let the unsub win. She just prayed that he could hold it together until the team got there...


	13. Chapter 13

"_Life is just one damned thing after another."  
__- Elbert Hubbard_

*****

A quick, sharp elbow to the rotting wooden door of the abandoned grounds-keeping shed had it crumbling apart and Rossi reached inside and pulled out five shovels.

"Rossi, Prentiss, start digging here," Hotch called from a point in the centre of the unused field off the back of the decrepit church, "We might not be exactly on target, so Reid, JJ, and I will move outwards from this point in a grid pattern. If you think you've got him, call for the rest of us; it's going to take all of us to get him out of here."

They all set to work digging as if their lives depended on it... Because someone's did. They didn't care that their suits quickly became caked with mud and their faces dripped with sweat despite the chill wind blistering across the dilapidated landscape.

"Look for ground of a different color than the surrounding earth, a patch that has recently been disturbed. Any soil that is more loosely packed; you'll be able to feel it as you shovel through it," Reid said, "Chances are, he won't be too deep since the coffin has to have access to a clean air supply and it has to be able to send out a signal to transmit the live feed."

As time ticked by and with each shovelful of upturned earth that got them no closer to Morgan, anxiety and frustration rose exponentially and tempers flared.

They resolutely refused to lose hope though, perhaps because of Emily's increasingly disheartened state. They continued digging at the specified coordinates long after surpassing the depth at which the other victims had been buried, but it was becoming very clear that he wasn't in the promised location.

They began moving ever further out in their grid search, knowing that with each square foot, their chances of finding him fell.

Angry black clouds had started roiling on the horizon, bringing with them the promise of rain. It seemed fitting. The bitter wind continued to howl, tossing debris about in its rage. The temperature quickly fell as they burned daylight, an ominous darkness descending on them.

They dug until they reached the point of near-exhaustion, until they were nearly ready to collapse, but continued to dig despite the lack of energy, of light, of hope. They began trading off digging, while the others held the flashlights and offered encouragement. It didn't really help, but they could pretend that they believe the reassuring words.

But eventually, it became painfully clear that they had been tricked and there was nothing they could do about it.

"That son of a bitch lied to us!" JJ growled, "He's screwing with us!"

"Guys! Get over here!" Reid yelled suddenly from one of the peripheral dig sites where he was holding the flashlight while Hotch dug.

Everyone came running, holding their breath, hardly daring to believe that they might finally have found him.

"This dirt has been disturbed recently," Hotch said. Rossi immediately jumped down into the hole and started digging as well. "We need more light!"

The others waited with bated breath, less than patiently, holding their flashlights, getting increasingly antsy.

Then, suddenly, there was a large shifting of earth. "Whoa..." breathed Rossi.

"What is is?" Hotch asked, making a move to get to a better vantage point.

"NO!" Rossi shouted, "Don't move!"

"Rossi, what's going on?" Emily asked frantically, panic bubbling under the forced calm of her voice, foretelling tears.

"Hotch," Rossi cautioned, keeping his voice as calm and level as he could manage, "You're standing on a land mine..."


	14. Chapter 14

_"Don't tell God how big your storm is, tell your storm how big your God is."  
- Unknown_

*****

"I am standing right here, at an abandoned cemetery outside of Quantico, where a land mine was discovered during a rescue effort," the news reporter announced. The media had shown up in droves, jackals upon a weak antelope, despite the driving rain now coming down in buckets.

"Sir! Ma'am! Please, stand back!" the police shouted, trying to hold back the hoards of reporters, cameramen, and photographers, struggling to maintain some sort of order in the midst of all the chaos. "Please, stand back! It's very dangerous."

"How did the media get here so fast?" JJ asked, shaking her head.

"The unsub tipped them off," Emily whispered, close to tears. Morgan's disappearance was already really hard on her. The land mine and the media frenzy over the case were not helping at all.

"This was a trap," Reid said matter-of-factly, "We were right when we thought that he was a mission-based killer. He wasn't after the money. But it still doesn't make sense... What does he accomplish by killing us? What do we have to do with his victim type? Guilt by association?"

"Spence, not now," JJ stopped him.

"How is it?" Emily asked as the captain of the bomb squad approached them.

The two senior agents were still standing as still as humanly possible in the pit, as it filled with water. They were both wearing protective vests, in the hopes that it might absorb the shock wave or protect against shrapnel should things take a turn for the worse. Floodlights were set up around them, lighting the scene as several bomb techs, heavily armoured, worked on the device while police officers held umbrellas over them to keep the equipment dry.

"Not so good," the captain grimaced, "We can't get Agent Rossi out first because even the slightest change in pressure might trigger the land mine to blow. We'll do everything we can to get them out, but right now you need to evacuate the scene. We aren't sure how strong the charge is."

They nodded and, as they begin to move away, Emily said, "I'm going to call Garcia to update her. I'll have to call Morgan's mom too," she added sadly, stepping away from the others to a quieter corner, away from the media.

"I saw the news! What happened?" Garcia asked the minute the phone rang.

"Hotch and Rossi are currently standing on a land mine," Emily informed calmly, though inside she was more than ready to break down. "The bomb squad is working to diffuse it. Derek isn't here."

"That bastard tricked us..."

"I'm going to call Morgan's mom to update her."

Before Emily could hang up, Garcia asked, "How are you holding up?"

"Would you believe me if I said I'm okay?"

"Be strong. Derek needs you."

"How is he doing?" There was an audible weariness to her voice and she was suddenly glad for the gloomy weather because the rain smattering her face disguised her tears.

"Fine," Garcia lied. She didn't have the heart to tell Emily that he had very nearly tried to kill himself earlier. That would have torn Emily apart, she didn't need to know about that.

"I've got to go."

******

Garcia was keeping a close eye on the news, praying for her family's safety, when her phone rang. "Penelope?" the caller asked, sounding desperate, close to tears.

"Yes. This is Penelope Garcia."

"I'm Derek's mother. I saw the news. What happened?"

"Didn't Emily call you?" Garcia frowned.

Mrs. Morgan sighed, "No. I've been waiting for her to call. But she hasn't..."

"The kidnapper tricked us. Derek isn't there... I'm sorry," Garcia added sadly, not knowing what else she could say to comfort her.

"What about Emily? Is she safe?"

"She's..." She faltered mid-sentence, unable to lie to the woman who was so close to losing everything, "I'll check with the team..."

******

"What is it, Garcia?" JJ asked as she answered the phone.

"Is Emily with you?" she asked calmly, not wanting to trigger another wave of panic, in case it was a false alarm.

"No. She stepped away to call you."

"Well, she called me. But she didn't call Mrs. Morgan. And now, Emily isn't answering her phone."

"I'll see if I can find her." Heart pounding, hardly able to believe their string of misfortunes, JJ scoured the area, looking for Emily. She didn't dare call out her name, too much was riding on the concentration of the bomb squad, on the homeostasis of the situation. "Garcia, I..." she started to say, but stopped when a blinking light amid the dark, damp undergrowth caught her attention.

"I just found her phone..." she breathed as she picked it up, letting the implications wash over her. "Damn it!" she cursed angrily, "The unsub has her."

"You don't know that. She could have dropped it," Garcia practically plead, hopeful that things weren't as bad as they seemed.

Things just never seemed to work out that way, though...


	15. Chapter 15

"_If you lose hope, somehow you lose the vitality that keeps life moving, you lose that courage to be, that quality that helps you go on in spite of it all. And so, today, I still have a dream."  
__- Martin Luther King, Jr_

*****

Something was going on. Morgan could tell.

At first he could hear digging and he thought the team had figured out where he was. He had yelled and pounded against the lid for all he was worth, trying to let them know that they were on the right track. But then, in a crushing blow, he realized that he could only hear one shovel digging leisurely through the dirt; surely, if it were the team, they would all be digging and they would be in hurry to get him out.

But he continued to make noise anyway, in the off chance that he might still be rescued by someone who had stumbled across his grave by chance. Clearly, though, that was not meant to be, because shortly thereafter, he saw the face of the digger.

A face that had smiled cruelly back, taunting him with freedom. But, no matter how much he fought, the lock held firm, binding him in his prison. He was forced to watch as the unsub busied himself in some unknown task.

What was he doing? Why had he gone to the trouble of digging him up, possibly risking him escaping? And what did it have to do with him, with his torture?

The unsub turned back and tossed something down into the pit. It landed against the coffin lid with a delicate clink. He recognized the object immediately, feeling his heart hammer harder and faster against his ribcage. A necklace, a fine gold chain with a little heart-shaped charm, the one he had given Emily for her birthday...

"No!" Morgan yelled, feeling his blood boil with anger, "No!" What had that son of a bitch done to her?

"Are you praying now?" the unsub shouted down to him, laughing to himself.

"What did you do to her?" he yelled. But he got no reply, the unsub had already turned away, once again busying himself at his task.

He came back into view a minute later, pushing a second, empty coffin into the widened pit. When he returned a second time, Morgan felt his entire body freeze, his heart stop, his breath catch in his chest, his thoughts grind to a halt, as the unsub dropped Emily's lifeless body into the second coffin and locked it closed.

"No!" he cried as shovelfuls of dirt rained down on them.

******

There was much pacing and aggravated grumbling in the conference room. "How did it happen?" Hotch asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. His suit was still covered in dirt, but aside from that, it would have been impossible to tell that barely an hour ago his life had been on the line.

"Emily stepped away to update Garcia and Morgan's mother. We weren't really paying attention, but we figured she was probably okay on her own for awhile... We thought she might cry and you know she doesn't like us to see her as weak... But then Morgan's mom called Garcia and said that Emily never called her," Reid explained, "The next thing we know, Emily was gone."

"Sir," Garcia spoke up softly, "The unsub sent us a new link. _'It's easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle than a for rich man to get into heaven.'_"

"Open it," Hotch said quietly, shutting his eyes momentarily. It was almost becoming too much – almost – but he couldn't let them know that.

As the new screen flickered into life, JJ came into the room with Ambassador Prentiss and Morgan's mom trailing closely behind.

"Oh my God..." the Ambassador gasped, "Emily..."

******

Morgan kept his eyes trained on the motionless figure in the coffin next to his, watching intently for any sign of life. But she didn't move.

He refused to believe that she was anything other than unconscious, she just _had _to wake up.

He wasn't sure if sound would carry through the two Plexiglas walls between them, but that didn't stop him from calling to her, trying to pull her back into consciousness. "Emily!"

He thought he saw her move slightly and his heart pounded, hoping she might finally be waking up.

"Emily! Come on, baby, just wake up. Wake up, Emily, come on!"

Then he saw a definite, deliberate movement. She twisted just a little, moving closer to what he knew to be the air vent. It wasn't much, but it meant she was still alive, though probably not fully aware yet, otherwise she would likely have started panicking.

He began pounding against the wall of his coffin. "Emily," he called, "Emily, it's Derek. Come on, baby, let me see that you're okay."

Very slowly, painfully, she turned to the source of the noise. "Derek..." she whispered, reaching out and placing her palm against the wall separating them. It took her several moments before the full implications of their situation hit her.

Both trapped. Both alone. Both forced to watch as the other slowly slipped away, but without being able to reach out, to physically comfort them...

She started to cry and he felt his heart breaking.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered.


	16. Chapter 16

_"Flies are born to be eaten by spiders and man to be devoured by sorrow."  
- Voltaire_

*****

After getting over the initial shock of seeing her daughter trapped in a coffin alongside her boyfriend, Ambassador Prentiss was fuming. As soon as JJ shut the door of her office, the Ambassador asked bitterly, "What happened, Agent Hotchner? How did this happen?"

"Ambassador Prentiss, Mrs. Morgan. Please have a seat," JJ gently insisted.

Hotch sighed deeply. "The initial GPS coordinates the unsub gave us were a trap. There was a land mine and in the midst of all the chaos, he kidnapped Agent Prentiss. I'm sorry," he added regretfully.

"Sorry is not good enough for me, Agent Hotchner."

The room was silent for a moment. It would have been a devastating understatement to say that the atmosphere in the office was tense. Everyone in the room was enraged and not to mention extremely worried. The entire team was exhausted from running on little to no sleep and it was deeply depressing to know that the unsub was one step ahead of them.

"Why Derek?" Mrs. Morgan asked softly, "Why him and Emily?"

"We figured out that the unsub might be targeting people who have been struggling with their faith. But why he took Emily, we're not sure," JJ explained.

"I want to know all the details of this case," Ambassador Prentiss said in a tone that left no room for discussion.

******

Morgan watched helplessly as Emily shut her eyes, tears trickling down her cheeks. He wanted to gather her in his arms and kiss her tears away, but he couldn't. They were separated by Plexiglas. All he could do was watch his favourite girl cry.

"Emily," he called out as her sobs began to fade and her breathing slowed to quiet hiccups, "Baby. Can you you hear me?"

She nodded and sniffled, "Yes. I can hear you."

He shifted himself closer to her side, almost pressing his face up against the Plexiglas wall. "Don't cry, baby. We're going to get out. We'll be okay," he soothed, silently praying that those words would be true.

Emily nodded and moved closer to him, pressing her palm against the wall, urging him to do the same. As he placed his palm on the other side of the glass, they momentarily seemed to forget that they were separated.

"Baby," Morgan said, "Whatever happens, I want you to know that I love you. Very much."

"I love you too, Derek."

******

Garcia broke down into sobs as she watched Morgan and Emily declare their love for each other. _Just hang in there guys. We'll get you out. I still need to attend your wedding._

It wasn't fair for them to be separated like that. It wasn't fair that this happened to them. Frankly, this wasn't fair to anyone. She was so proud of them for staying strong for each other. Inevitably, they gave her the strength to keep on fighting. She promised herself that she would do everything to get her two best friends out.

"Garcia, are you okay?" Reid asked as he heard her gentle sniffles.

"I'm fine," she replied. "Do you need anything?"

"Are you sure you don't need a minute?" Rossi asked.

"We don't have a minute to take," she said, "I'm fine. Really?"

"Could you check the distance between the burial sites of the victims and the churches they frequented?" Reid asked.

"Sure," she said, quickly setting to work, hoping that whatever she was doing would be enough to bring her friends back safely.

******

After a long argument between Ambassador Prentiss and Hotch, Hotch finally gave in and let the two worried mothers in on the details of the case. He was sure that they wouldn't give the details to anyone else and maybe, this would make the two mothers a little more confident in the team.

"The unsub called the tip-line and pretended to be a witness," JJ began, "When Morgan went over to interview him, he surprised Morgan and kidnapped him. He sent us a link of Morgan in the coffin and told us to prepare five hundred thousand dollars in twelve hours or we would never see him again."

"That was when Emily approached me," the Ambassador said softly.

"Yes," JJ nodded. "He gave us the GPS coordinates and we went to search for Morgan. We were tricked and we didn't find him. Only a land mine. The next thing we know, Emily was gone," JJ continued sadly. "We're really sorry."

Ambassador Prentiss shut her eyes to prevent the tears from falling, while Mrs. Morgan sobbed softly.

"Did you find anything on the unsub?" the Ambassador asked. "What was his name?"

Hotch sighed, "He gave us a fake name. Jake Remier. There were no records on this person at all."

"Wait," Mrs. Morgan said suddenly, looking up sharply, "You said Reimer?"

"Yes. Why?"

Her forehead creased in concentration as if trying to grasp a memory just out of reach. "There was a family with the last name Reimer that lived not far from us," she explained, "I think they had a boy Derek's age..."

"Was he a friend of Morgan's?"

"Quite the opposite," Mrs. Morgan answered, "Derek... He used to be a little bit of a bully..."

"He could be our unsub," JJ whispered to Hotch.

"Get Garcia on it."


	17. Chapter 17

_"A man can no more diminish God's glory by refusing to worship Him than a lunatic can put out the sun by scribbling the word 'darkness' on the walls of his cell."  
- C. S. Lewis_

*****

Ambassador Prentiss paced back and forth agitatedly; trying to maintain a calm, collected facade was not working. Although, she supposed that she wasn't expected to be calm knowing that her daughter was dying somewhere and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

She glanced over to where the mother of Emily's boyfriend sat looking lost. Her eyes were red, but she was no longer crying. She had no doubt though that it was a delicate balance and the slightest thing could push her over the edge again.

She wondered whether the other woman thought she was a bad mother because she had yet to shed a tear for her daughter.

Suddenly, for the first time since Hotch and JJ had left them alone, Mrs. Morgan spoke up. Giving a small, half-hearted laugh, she commented, "I'll bet they never in a million years thought we'd be meeting like this..."

The Ambassador smiled wryly and tried to hold back the thoughts saying that if it weren't for the kidnapping, she would never have even known Emily had a boyfriend, let alone have met his family... Biting her tongue, she gave a slight nod, deciding not to speak ill even though she could think of nothing else. "How long have you known about them?" she asked softly after a moment. The silence was killing her.

"Five months ago," Mrs. Morgan replied, smiling sadly. "I called Derek one morning and Emily picked up the phone. Derek brought her back to Chicago three months back for my birthday. Best birthday gift I could ever ask for..."

The Ambassador nodded absently. _Best birthday gift... _She realized that she had never been so glad to see her own daughter. Then she felt so guilty. She was always so focused on her career that she had neglected Emily. She even forgot her own daughter's birthday on occasion. Maybe she really was a bad mother...

"Emily tells me you two aren't close..." Mrs. Morgan's voice pulled her from her reverie.

"That's true," Ambassador Prentiss answered regrettably, sitting down beside Mrs. Morgan. "I was, am, always working... We never spent a lot of time together."

Mrs. Morgan smiled kindly and reached over to place her hand over the Ambassador's. "It's never too late to start now."

"That's if we get them back..."

"We'll get them back. Derek still owes me some grandbabies and he's not getting out of it that easily..."

******

"Here," JJ said gently, setting a cup of bad coffee in front of Rossi before travelling around the table, passing the coffee to the rest of the team.

"Thanks," he replied blithely, taking a sip of the bad coffee and struggling not to pull a disgusted face. At any other time, he would have complained that the Bureau needed to treat their agents better, but this time, he held back. For one thing, he wasn't really in a complaining mood, seeing as the team didn't need anymore frustration than was already on their plate. For another, after several long, stressful, sleepless days, he didn't really know what he was drinking; his mind and eyes were focused elsewhere anyway, completely intent on the glass board in front of them as Reid began making markings on the map. "I think he's got something," Rossi whispered to Hotch, who nodded grimly.

After several agonizing of minutes of waiting, Reid finally put the marker down and turned to face the team. "I think I know where Morgan and Emily are."

"Are you sure?" Hotch asked seriously. They _had_ to be right this time; there wasn't room for error, there wasn't time...

"All the victims were found within a two mile radius of the church they frequented. If the unsub sticks to the pattern, that's where Emily and Morgan should be," Reid explained.

Hotch was hesitant; part of him believed that Reid was right, seeing as he usually was, but the other part of him was skeptical, nothing about this so far indicated sticking to a pattern. For the first time, he didn't know what to do.

"We have to go," Rossi insisted.

"What if we're wrong?" Hotch sighed, "We don't have time to waste..."

"What if we're right? We have to take the chance..."

At length, Hotch nodded. "Let's go."

******

Morgan frowned as he watched Emily once again slip out of consciousness. He couldn't help the feeling now flooding through his chest, paralyzing him with fear, that little voice telling him that something was seriously wrong.

He couldn't tell whether it was just him being overprotective, worrying about the safety of the woman he loved or whether something actually was wrong. She hadn't been here as long as him, she shouldn't be suffering from oxygen deprivation already... But she kept blacking out and whenever she was awake she seemed to be having trouble breathing and she wasn't thinking clearly. Though he knew that the unsub had thus far kept his method of subduing victims to chloroform, which she could have reacted to, that didn't preclude him having used force. Trauma to the head could explain what was happening, but that also meant her chances of survival dropped sharply...

In his heart, he knew she was in trouble... He just didn't want to admit it to himself. Because that also meant admitting that he couldn't do a single thing to save her. He could only lay there watching her slip away. And he wasn't sure that she was going to last long enough for anyone else to rescue them... Which meant having to go on without her.

That was something he didn't want to have to do... Ever...

Keeping his eyes trained on her unsettlingly still form, taking in the tear tracks on her cheeks, the fresh bruises that he could swear weren't there a half hour ago, the ragged rise and fall of her chest with uneven breaths, he felt something break inside of him.

"Keep holding on, Em," he whispered, "Don't let go."

Then, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath, he began to pray. Not for himself, but for Emily. "Please, don't take her away..." he breathed, barely fighting back his tears.


	18. Chapter 18

_"I know God will not give me anything I cannot handle. I just wish He didn't trust me so much."  
- Mother Teresa_

*****

Charcoal clouds had swollen on the horizon until they overtook the sky and exploded, bursting forth a torrent of icy, driving rain. The deluge of water poured from the sky with such intensity that even immediate surroundings were reduced to a hazy blur. The clouds continued to grow with unyielding fury until no sliver of blue could break through and the sun was completely banished. Forks of lightening were the only glimmer of light, sparking across the midnight black that had overtaken the sunny afternoon. Thunder rode immediately on its coattails, not a spare second behind, rending the silence with an explosion of apocalyptic proportions.

Lights and sirens blaring, the team's SUV raced through the city streets like a bat out of hell, followed by an armada of squad cars. Windshield wipers going full speed wasn't even enough to keep the glass clear enough to see through. Taking corners at high-speed, the rain nearly sent them skidding on the slick roads.

The noises of the storm were the only sounds inside the vehicle as they rode in silence, somewhere between brooding and panicking. The only sound was the seemingly audible ticking of the clock signifying the time Morgan and Emily had left; though it was only in their heads, it was obvious that it was haunting them all in unison.

Screeching to a stop in the middle of the street outside the church, both the BAU and the squad teams flew from their vehicles, out into the pouring rain. Everyone's blood was pumping with adrenaline, worry, and a sliver of hope. Praying that the unsub's pattern hadn't changed and this was where Morgan and Emily would be, they split into teams, covering as much land as they could. Search grids were set up, shovels handed out, and digging commenced with hell-bent haste.

The weather continued to do its very best to impede their progress, raining impossibly harder, unleashing more fury than ever before. The impermeable clouds and the driving rain made it harder to differentiate between untouched ground and that which had recently been disturbed. Rain washed freshly dug soil back into the holes they dug. Thunder made it nearly impossible to hear the shouts of even the closest person. The almost simultaneous lightening strikes gave a strobe light effect to the area, causing even greater confusion. Violent winds razed across the land, tossing debris about in its rage, nearly knocking people off their feet by force alone. Within seconds, they were all soaked clean through to the bone, but that did nothing to slow their progress, if anything, it spurred them on more.

No one cared about anything besides finding their friends and nothing short of a nuclear holocaust was going to deter them from the task at hand.

******

"Derek," Emily whispered urgently, "Do you hear that?"

He murmured groggily, something incoherent, not really replying.

Huffing out a breath, she was silent for another moment, checking again to be sure that she had really heard it, that she wasn't hallucinating. The latter seemed far more likely.

But the noise continued.

"Derek!" she said again, slightly louder and more urgently. "It sounds like someone's up there... Do you hear it?"

His breath hitched which she took to mean him to be waking up more fully. "I hear it..." he said finally after several moments of silence. "It's hard to hear over the thunder, but it sounds like voices, like digging..."

"Do you think it's the team?" she breathed softly, hopefully.

He paused slightly, a little reluctant to believe that it was someone coming to their rescue after what had happened the last time he heard digging. But, looking over and seeing the hope flitting across her face, taking in her shallow breathing and the sight of her injuries, he knew he couldn't let that hope die. "I think so."

If she had noticed his hesitation, she didn't call him out on it, leaving well enough alone. "We should let them know we're here, call out to them or something..."

He nodded and began pounding on the lid of his coffin. "Help us! Help us, we're here!"

******

Rossi flung out an arm to stop Reid's progress, almost clothes-lining him in the process. "Ouch!" Reid yelped, sucking in sharp breath as his lungs recoiled, "What was that for?"

"Quiet!" he snapped, "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"It sounds like voices..." They both stopped talking and listened for several seconds, but the sound seemed lost. Rossi frowned, sure that he hadn't imagined it. "Everyone stop what they're doing and shut up!" he yelled over the interference of the storm.

After another moment, JJ cried out, "I hear them!"

Rossi nodded, "It's muffled and distorted by the dirt and the storm, but it's definitely them."

"It's coming from over here!" JJ said, gesturing with her shovel.

Everyone started running in the direction she indicated, feeling the slowly dying hope rekindle with a new fervour.

Suddenly, a near-cataclysmic flash of lightening rent the sky in two, the devil's whip cracking angrily through the air. It made contact with an enormous, ancient tree, tearing the wood apart as if it were a toothpick. The sound of the wood fracturing combined with the clap of thunder echoed through the field in a horrid, ear-shattering blast. Sparks blossomed from the contact site like two jumper cables touched together and the old wood burst into flames.

And, as if in slow motion, they all watched helplessly as the tree tumbled to the ground below, landing exactly where they now knew Morgan and Emily to be, impeding all further rescue efforts.

******

A foreboding tremor shook the ground above them and they immediately froze, their cries for help catching in their throats.

"What was that?" Emily whimpered, terrified.

"I..." His sentence ended abruptly and Emily turned to look at Morgan, frightened tears sparkling in her eyes. She watched him flinch when he felt an icy drop of water on his forehead. He reached up to touch the Plexiglas, tracing a fine line that began racing the length of the box. "It cracked..."


	19. Chapter 19

_"Nothing can stop the man with the right mental attitude from achieving his goal; nothing on earth can help the man with the wrong mental attitude."  
- Thomas Jefferson_

*****

"What?" Emily yelped, outright refusing to believe that they could possibly be hit by any more bad luck.

Her answer came in the form of a sharp, drawn-out splintering noise like an ice floe breaking apart, as cracks radiated across the surface of her own coffin. Water immediately began seeping in, pulling in a thick mud along with it.

Turning her head to look at Morgan who was holding his hands flat against the lid of his box, attempting to maintain the structural integrity to prevent it from collapsing in on him, she asked again, "What happened?"

"I don't know..." he said through gritted teeth, moving his hands to try to stop the leak. "Some kind of shock-wave, I think..."

Mirroring his efforts to hold things together, she lamented, "If someone doesn't come soon, we're going to be crushed..."

"Or drown..." he added blithely under his breath. Sighing and fixing her with a compelling gaze, he insisted, "Someone _will _get here in time."

She nodded, keeping her eyes trained on his, shutting out the rest of the ever more disheartening world until it was only them, keeping each other from giving up.

******

"Son of a bitch!" someone cursed thickly. They were all thinking it.

Taking a moment to absorb the shock, Hotch returned to his usual calm, leader mode. "JJ, call Garcia. We'll probably need a forklift to move this tree."

But before JJ could reach into her pocket to get her phone, it was already ringing. "What happened?!" Garcia's voiced was laced with panic and worry. "Why is there water seeping into the boxes?"

"Garcia, don't panic," JJ replied, taking a deep breath to calm herself in the process. "We know where they are, but a tree snapped and fell on top of them. I think it must have cracked the boxes. You need to get someone to remove this tree. And fast."

"On it."

JJ hung up the phone and turned back to the team. "The boxes cracked..."

"What do you mean they cracked?" Rossi asked, hoping what that her explanation would be different from his understanding of her sentence.

No such luck. "Garcia said that water is seeping into the boxes. I'm afraid they might drown before we even get to them..."

Everyone was silent, the only sound the cackling of the thunder, seemingly mocking them. The small margin of hope that had started to grow had toppled along with the tree now resolutely blocking their rescue.

"We could try to move the tree ourselves," Reid suggested softly, "It's better than doing nothing."

The rain had immediately reduced the flames to smouldering coals, but the sheer size of the tree alone seemed a remarkable boon. But they weren't about to let that stand in their way. Doing nothing was not an option.

"If we had a chainsaw, we could cut it into smaller, more manageable pieces," Rossi suggested.

From inside the grounds-keeping shed, a voice replied, "No chainsaw..." There were four audible, deflated sighs. "But there's a couple of hand-saws..."

"That'll take too long," JJ said, shaking her head, "Longer than waiting for a forklift."

"We can use them to cut off all the branches," Reid piped up, "Then, with our collective strength, we should be able to roll the tree out of the way."

******

Watching from afar, he was sure that the fallen tree and the raging storm were sent by God. It was supposed to stop the agents from saving their friends, yet it only seemed to fuel their motivation.

He watched the BAU team's rescue attempt with anger, jealously, and a bit of admiration. They didn't care if they were soaked to the bone, they didn't care if they were exhausted and covered in mud, and the many obstacles that were preventing them from getting to their friends didn't seem to have much of an effect on them. They simply wanted to save their friends and they were going to do it at any cost.

But that motivation was ruining his plan. These people weren't supposed to be saved. They deserved to die.

And his jealously was only fueling his anger. Why do these people care so much for the two of them? What did they have that he doesn't? He was sure that if he was the one in danger, no one would give a damn.

Silently, he watched as the large tree trunk finally gave way after a couple of tries. With all the strength and manpower they had been able to gather, the tree was moved out of the way.

And there was no way he was happy about it.

******

"Baby, you hear that?" Morgan asked, tearing his eyes away from hers for a second, "I hear digging."

"I hear it," Emily smiled tiredly. "They're coming to get us."

"Hey," he said gently, "Don't give up, okay? Just hold on a little longer." He looked at her pleadingly, knowing that her injuries were getting the better of her. "I need you to be okay, because I don't know what I'll do without you..."

"I promise." A split second later, she was unconscious again.

He smiled slightly and began shouting as loudly as he could. "Help! Can you hear us? We're down here!"

Above ground, everyone was shoveling the dirt out of the pit as fast as they could and the sound of Morgan's voice spurred them on.

"We hear you!" Hotch yelled back.

The last thing Morgan remembered was a patch of light breaking through the darkness of the soil, finally letting himself give in to the overwhelming exhaustion knowing they were finally safe.


	20. Chapter 20

_"Courage is not the absence of fear but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear."  
- Unknown_

_*****_

Emily opened her eyes and was immediately accosted by bright, white lights. The first thought that came to her head was, _'Am I dead? Is this heaven?'_

She had never really believed in heaven, but if there was one and she really had died, she'd like to be there. Then, she heard a quiet beeping in the background and someone calling her name. That voice sounded really familiar and the warm hands closed around her own comforted her and made her feel safe.

"Emily? Baby, can you hear me?"

She turned her head and winced at the dull ache at the back of her skull. "Derek?" She smiled softly when she saw him. "Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital," he replied, letting out a sigh of relief. "The team found us." He paused momentarily before continuing in a whisper, "You scared me. I thought I was going to lose you..."

"What happened? How long was I out?"

"You have a concussion. You passed out while the team was digging us out. It's been a couple of hours. I almost lost you," Morgan repeated fearfully.

"I'm here now," she said softly.

"Baby, did that son of bitch hit you?"

Emily paused for a moment as her mind relived the moments before she blacked out and later woke up in a coffin. "We had a fight," she relayed, "I saw someone walking towards me from the corner of my eye and he tried to grab me. I punched him and I think I hit my head on something when he punched me back. He was strong. The next thing I know, I was in a box."

Anger was burning in his eyes. For a second, Emily thought Morgan was mad at the unsub, but what he said made her blame herself for having been so careless. "It's all my fault... If I hadn't got kidnapped, you wouldn't have suffered."

"It's not your fault!" Emily tightened her grip on his hand, then changed the subject, "Are you okay? Shouldn't you have been admitted too?"

"I'm okay."

"Really?"

"Really." He smiled softly, tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and gently kissed her. "Go back to sleep. You need to rest."

She shifted on the bed to make room for him. "You need to rest too." Her voice was firm and left no room for discussion.

Morgan grinned and climbed onto the bed, taking her into his arms. "I'm so glad you're okay. I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered before she drifted off to sleep.

For as long as he dared, he just lay there next to her, watching her sleep, allowing himself to fully absorb the fact that they had both gotten out alive.

But that didn't make up for the fact that they had been in harm's way in the first place. A threat on his own life, he could handle, but he wasn't just going to sit back and let that son of a bitch get away with putting Emily in danger like that. The worst part of the whole ordeal had been watching her suffer and someone inflicting pain on the woman he loved wasn't something he was going to take lying down...

He was going to move heaven and earth to see justice through. Pull out all the stops. No holds barred. He was out for blood and he wasn't going to rest until he knew that bastard had paid for what he had done...

He gently pressed a kiss to Emily's forehead, wary of the bruises there, trying not to wake her. He didn't want her to know where he was going, what he was doing.

He quietly crept from the room, taking care to avoid the nurses, hoping to escape before they noticed he was gone. The doctors had technically admitted him, wanting to keep him overnight for observation. But the nurses had given him permission to go visit Emily, a few rooms over, and the second they weren't looking, he had snatched his clothes and ditched his IV, preparing for his escape.

His mother, who had resolutely refused to leave his side, had mercifully fallen asleep after days of running on fumes. The team would have tried to stop him, but they had all gone back to work at his urging. Technically, the case was still open and they still had an unsub to track down, even though they were content with merely having their friends back safely.

He was about to save them the trouble of having to track down the bastard...

******

"Derek?"

"No, it's me. Mother..." Ambassador Prentiss said with a rare tenderness in her voice. "Are you okay?"

"Mother?" Emily smiled softly, though she was a little disappointed that Morgan wasn't with her. She figured he might have gone to speak with her doctor. He wouldn't leave her alone without a good reason. "I'm okay now," she assured, "Where's Derek?"

The Ambassador paused for a moment. "I don't know. He wasn't here when I came in. Perhaps he's on his own ward," she added with a shrug.

"What do you mean 'on his own ward'?" Emily frowned. "He said he wasn't admitted and he was in his own clothes..."

And as if to confirm suspicions of Morgan's disappearance, Mrs. Morgan came into Emily's room looking for him. "He's gone..." she breathed, beyond panic.

"What? Are you sure?" Emily asked, feeling her heartbeat flutter erratically, refusing to believe that he had just left without telling her. "Where is he going?"

She shook her head, "I don't know, I woke up and he was gone, the nurses didn't even notice he wasn't in his bed..."

Emily gave a little dismayed whimper. Immediately, she was trying to unattach her heart-monitor, struggling to get out of bed.

"Emily, what are you doing?" the Ambassador asked worriedly.

"I have to go after him," she said insistently, "He could be in trouble. He needs me."

"Emily," Mrs. Morgan said gently, "That's what got you in trouble in the first place... He obviously trusts you, so if he didn't tell you where he's going, it's probably because he feels it's safer. He just wants to protect you."

"From what? I'm safe now..." Emily let out a tired sigh, then a look of realization crossed her face. "Oh God... He's going after the unsub..."

_'No one hurts my girl and gets away with it...'_ Emily remembered that Morgan said that when she was injured in one of the previous cases. That unsub had tried to kill her; he didn't succeed, but did manage inflict some serious pain. Morgan had tackled the unsub with more force than usual and beat the crap out of him when he tried to fight back.

And that was what Morgan was going to do now... He was going to track the unsub down to end this once and for all, to make sure he would never hurt Emily again. She didn't know if she should feel fortunate that her boyfriend was willing to risk his life for her or be extremely annoyed at him for his pig-headedness.

She didn't have time to ponder over that though. She needed to find him first. "Where's my phone?" she asked as she searched the room.

"It's here."

Grabbing her phone from her mother, Emily hit speed-dial and was greeted by Morgan's voice-mail. "Derek, it's me. Please, come back. Don't do anything stupid," she begged. Though she knew it was a long shot. Once Derek Morgan had his sights set on something, he wasn't going to give up until he got what he wanted. On top of that, she didn't even know if he had his phone with him.

Emily immediately made another call and this time someone answered the phone. "Garcia!"

"Hey," the blond tech greeted cheerfully. "You're not supposed to be using the phone in the hospital," she admonished teasingly.

She didn't have any time for pretenses and niceties. "Derek's gone."

"What? Are you sure he's not just in the bathroom or something?" Garcia asked hopefully. This whole case had been a roller coaster of emotions and, just when she thought things were getting better, Morgan goes missing again...

"He's going after the unsub. Can you track him? Please?"

"I'll try," she conceded, "But if he doesn't want to be found..."

"I know!" she snapped, too on edge to stop from lashing out, "I know..."

The rest of her words caught in her throat as her pulse monitor sounded an alarm.

"Emily," her mother said gently, "You need to calm down. You're going to make yourself sick from the stress after everything you've been through."

Emily burst into tears. "How can I be calm? How can I not stress out while Derek's out there somewhere tracking down some homicidal maniac who just tried to kill him, hell bent on making him pay for it...and it's all my fault?"


	21. Chapter 21

_"I remember my mother's prayers and they have always followed me. They have clung to me all my life."  
- Abraham Lincoln_

*****

The relief of finding their friends and knowing that they were completely safe was replaced by a familiar aggravation and panic when the news of Morgan's disappearance reached the team. Morgan had voluntarily disappeared, which made it almost impossible to track him since he knew all the methods that could be used to track a person. The only thing they could do now was to track the unsub.

Which would ultimately lead them to Morgan.

Their concentration was broken when the sound of hurried footsteps was heard, followed shortly by the door bursting open. They weren't surprised by who was at the door, but it didn't mean that they were happy to see her.

"Emily, you shouldn't be here," Rossi said tiredly. It was clear that running on only caffeine and no sleep was taking a toll on everyone.

"Don't tell me where I should or shouldn't be," Emily snapped. "I'm fine, the doctors cleared me."

"They did?" JJ asked incredulously, finding that extremely difficult to believe. The bruises on Emily's face were still as apparent as when they found her.

"She made them," Ambassador Prentiss informed wryly as she entered the room, Mrs. Morgan following closely behind. "She left them with no choice but to let her go."

"What do we know?" Emily asked, wasting no more time on banalities. When no one made any move to fill her in, she insisted, "I'm not going back to the hospital and I'm not going to sit idly by while Derek is out there. Now, you can either tell me what you know or I'll go after him on my own..."

Hotch sighed wearily. At least, if she was here, with them, contributing to the profile, she was out of harm's way. He knew that if Emily got hurt and he could have prevented it, Morgan would have his hide. So, he relented, "Honestly, we still don't know a whole lot. Garcia's narrowed down a list of thirty or so men with the last name Reimer who would have been in elementry school at the same time as Morgan."

"But we don't have time to round up and interview thirty guys," Rossi said, "We need to come up with something to narrow it down more."

Emily bit her lip, obviously frustrated that that was all they had managed to come up with. But she knew they were trying, so she bit her tongue.

The Ambassador, though, clearly had no such compunctions. "That's it? That's all you have?" she asked incredulously. "You've been working this case for days and you're hardly closer to catching the guy than you were at the beginning!"

They all remained frozen, mouths hanging open slightly. Everything she'd said was true, they had no excuse, no justification. But hearing it said so blatantly made it all the more shameful.

Bravely, Mrs. Morgan placed a hand on her shoulder and said gently, "We aren't going to be of any help, let's leave them to their work." And, with that, she shepherded her from the room, leaving a still-stunned silence in their wake.

******

"How is it that you're still so calm?" Ambassador Prentiss asked as Mrs. Morgan ushered her to the other room, "Your son is out there, searching for that manic who tried to kill him!"

"You don't think I'm worried?" Mrs. Morgan asked softly, unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

The Ambassador cringed, immediately regretting her outburst. "I'm sorry..."

"I expected him to do that. That was one of the reasons I refused to leave him alone," she whispered, "I just didn't expect him to go after that man so soon."

"You expected him to do that? Why?"

Mrs. Morgan sighed. "That boy has always been very protective of us, his sisters and I. And, of course, now Emily as well. When he was little, whenever someone bullied his sisters, he'd go after that person and show them who's boss... I'm sure it had something to do with his father's death... He took his role as the man of the house very seriously." She smiled softly at that memory. "When he grew older, that didn't change. He still made sure no one messed with us. And when someone had hurt Emily like that man did, I was sure Derek would go all out to put an end to it..."

"How did you..."

"A mother knows..." she cut the Ambassador off. "You went to talk to the doctors, you told them to release Emily. You knew she wouldn't sit by and do nothing. So, instead of stopping her, you talked to the doctors, made it easier for her..." Mrs. Morgan chuckled softly when she saw the shocked look on the other woman's face. "I saw you."

She nodded. "If Emily hadn't been released, she would have snuck out of the hospital. I'd rather let her leave the hospital and bring her here, instead of having her go searching for Derek alone."

"You're a good mother."

Her attempt at a smile was closer to a grimace. "That's not something I'm told very often...

******

He stood, watching, waiting.

He knew he would remember. It was only a matter of time until he showed up.

He still couldn't believe they had been found in time, that they had gotten out alive. But there was more than one way to skin a cat and, if we was patient, he would get what he wanted.

In fact, he would hardly have to lift a finger. Really, he made it so easy...coming right to him, a lamb to the slaughter.

Then, right on schedule, he heard the voice from behind him. "Turn around you cowardly son of a bitch!"


	22. Chapter 22

_"The truths of religion are never so well understood as by those who have lost the power of reason."  
- Voltaire_

*****

"So, we know that this unsub knew Derek," Emily began after the long awkward silence. They didn't have time to feel shameful or guilty.

Hotch nodded and continued, "We also know that he targeted people who had been struggling with their faith. He watched them long enough to know their every move."

"Which probably means, he doesn't have a proper job," JJ concluded, "He wouldn't have been able to watch the victims if had a nine-to-five life."

"Why didn't we think of that earlier..." Rossi mumbled. "Garcia, eliminate people with office jobs," he instructed.

"That leaves eighteen people."

"We know he has been ignored and overlooked for the most part of his life. He would be shy and withdrawn," Reid said.

Emily smiled the most she could manage, it came off as more of a grimace; they were finally getting somewhere. "This unsub wouldn't be able to maintain a relationship with a woman. Garcia, how many on the list aren't married?"

Garcia's fingers moved at top speed. "Nine."

"How many are Christians?" Reid asked.

"Four."

"Any chance that one of them had problems with the church he frequented?" Rossi asked. "If he had been targeting victims who had problems with their faith, something might have happened between him and his church," he explained.

******

"I've been waiting for you..." he said simply, not turning around. "Surprised it took so long..." he taunted.

"I said turn around, you coward!" Morgan repeated.

Finally, he obliged, pivoting slowly on the spot so that he was facing his adversary. Immediately, he was accosted by a forceful fist to the face.

He stumbled backwards slightly from the force, but mustered all his self-control into not letting the pain cross his face just to irritate the now enraged man. Smirking, he commented wryly, half to himself, "Hits almost as hard as she did..."

Upon hearing that, Morgan's blood visibly boiled. "I'm gonna make you regret the day you ever laid a hand on her!"

******

"Seriously?" Rossi asked in disbelief, "He was _excommunicated_?"

Garcia paraphrased a portion of the news article that was the single result of her search, "Joseph Reimer, former Catholic priest, was accused of sexually abusing children in his congregation. Wasn't convicted, but the local bishop formally excommunicated him from the church, stripping him from his priesthood."

"Well, I'd say that certainly counts as a stressor," JJ commented.

Rossi frowned. "But going from being excommunicated and burying people alive is a big leap, especially considering that, people who are excommunicated are still encouraged to attend church in order to try to reconcile the disagreement."

"What if he based his identity largely on his religion," Reid hypothesized, "He feels confident, powerful, in control when he's a priest and then, when he's stripped of that, he loses a part of his identity as well, starts in a self-destructive spiral..."

"So, if he feels most confident when he's a priest, that means that being in church gives him the power he craves for," Emily deduced. "Which means Derek would be there as well."

Hotch and Rossi looked at each other for a moment and both nodded. "Let's go," Hotch instructed, "Garcia, send us the GPS coordinates of his church. Prentiss..."

"I'm not staying here," Emily brusquely cut him off.

"Fine," Hotch said irritatedly as the team made their way to the waiting SUV's; they didn't have the time to argue the point.

Garcia placed a hand on her heart and prayed that this would really be the end. "Be safe, my loves."

******

Morgan delivered another punch to his face; this time it was more forceful than the first, causing him to lose his balance.

He chuckled dryly, wiping away the blood that was trickling from his nose. "You want to know why I took her too?"

Silence.

"Because it would drive you crazy." Joseph smirked. "She drives you crazy. You'd throw away everything for her, if she wanted you to. Oh, Derek... You're so pathetic... You let this woman control you. You follow her around like a puppy dog..."

"Shut up!" Morgan clenched his jaw tightly. "You don't know her at all." Say what you want about him, he could take it, but the second someone tried dragging Emily's name through the mud, they were in for a world of hurt...

"But I do know you... You haven't changed one little bit, you're still the same self-absorbed, pompous, cocky thug that you were in grade school. It's a little sad, really," he taunted, voice dripping with condescension. "You made my life a living hell! I wasn't just going to sit back and take it anymore... I was finally going to get my revenge for all those years you terrorized me."

Then, he pulled out a gun, aiming it squarely at Morgan's chest. Instinctively, Morgan reached for his own weapon before remembering that it was either still at the hospital with his personal effects or it had been forgotten in the coffin when they rescued him.

"You almost got away..." he continued, "I thought I'd have to track you down again once they'd rescued you. But you made it so easy, coming right to me, a lamb to the slaughter. And to think, if it weren't for that whore, you wouldn't be here right now..." It was a deliberate jab, trying to get some kind of reaction from Morgan.

"Nobody talks about Emily like that," he hissed dangerously, "And no one hurts her and lives to tell the tale. One of us is going to be leaving here in a body-bag...and it isn't going to be me..."


	23. Chapter 23

_"Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn't learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn't learn a little, at least we didn't get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn't die; so, let us all be thankful."  
- Buddha_

*****

This ended and it ended today. That was the only acceptable outcome. Morgan knew he had to end this or the woman he loved would get hurt again, something he would never let happen so long as he drew breath.

Without thought, he tackled the unsub to the ground with all his strength and began hitting every inch of him within reach. He couldn't remember ever having hit anyone so hard, every last bit of strength backing each hit.

But he was worn thin from being trapped in the coffin without food or water, muscles cramped from disuse. And he hadn't taken any time in the hospital to recover before making a run for it. The sheer physical and mental strain of everything taking its toll little by little until he began to realize that he was going to reach the end of his rope long before his opponent. But he would fight to his very last breath, with the last meager vestiges of his strength, literally ready to invoke the phrase, 'over my dead body'.

But it was an uphill battle with very little chance of success, the full truth of which coming to a head when the unsub managed to pin him to the ground and get in a few hits of his own. Then, he couldn't resist taunting him a little in his moment of weakness. "What do you think your girlfriend is doing right now?"

Morgan managed to pull loose a hand and took aim for another punch, but the unsub easily caught it before it could come in contact with his already bruised and bleeding face.

"She doesn't know where you are, but she probably knows what you're trying to do. She must be really worried..." He smirked as he watched Morgan's face go blank, worry glinting in his eyes. "Do you think she's crying?"

Just then, there was a sudden voice from behind them, "There's no crying on the job..."

He whipped around to find five gun barrels levelled squarely at his head and hissed out several swears under his breath.

Morgan, smiling bitterly, echoed his earlier mocking advice, "Are you praying now?"

******

"What were you thinking, Derek?" Emily scolded softly, tears shining in her eyes, "Did you realize that you could have died? I could have lost you for good this time..."

Morgan said nothing at first, watching Joseph Reimer being rather brusquely forced into the backseat of a squad car. They easily had enough evidence against him to put him away for life, at least, if not sentence him to death. The second he was out of sight, Morgan turned his attention back to Emily.

The first thing he did then was to pull her to him and crashed their lips together in a desperate, passionate, yet relieved kiss. It had been far too long since their last real kiss. He pulled her closer, his hand that had been tracing her cheek now moved back into her hair as he deepened the kiss.

When he pulled away and she finally regained the ability to speak, she insisted, "We're going back to the hospital now."

"I'm fine. Shouldn't _you _still be there?"

She narrowed her eyes, but her mock-glare was good-natured. "This is a two-way street... If you're going to go hunting down some homicidal maniac, someone's got to go after you and save your ass. At least someone knew _I _was breaking out of the hospital..." He frowned and seemed about to argue the point when she added, "Oh, and speaking of which, I'm sure your mother has a bit of a bone to pick with you..."

******

Once the last member of the team and his mother had finally left him alone, Morgan flopped back down on the bed and let out a sigh of relief. Pensively, he formed a tentative fist, testing the IV hooked up to the back of hand.

Emily smiled slightly as she watched him. Quietly, she walked into the room, trailed by her own IV line. "Thinking about breaking out again?" she asked lightly.

He smiled. "No, just wondering how you managed to convince me to come back here..."

She laughed, "It was that or I wasn't coming back either."

She went to sit in the chair beside his bed, but he shifted slightly, giving her room to climb in bed with him. Sighing happily as he was once again able to hold her in his arms, he asked, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine now," she assured, "You?"

"Physically, I'm doing a lot better. Mentally... I'm still recovering." Taking note of the concerned look on her face, Morgan quickly explained, "It's not the unsub, I can handle him. But the team and my mom really read me the riot act. Hotch said he'd fire me if I did something like that again. The rest of them lectured me for being stupid, dumb, reckless, impulsive... You get the idea."

"Well, you were being kind of brazen..."

"I just wanted to protect you," Morgan pouted, mildly hurt that Emily wasn't on his side.

She laughed again and kissed his pouting lips. "I know, baby. But next time just don't..."

"Hang on," he interrupted, "_Next time_? No next time! You can't get hurt again, ever... I nearly died when I thought I'd lost you."

"No deal," she said challengingly. He was about to protest until she added, "Unless you make the same promise..."

He laughed, "So, it's agreed, we'll leave modern society to become hermits."

She smiled, "Or we can just make the best of the time we've got."


End file.
